I Don’t Know How to Sell Myself

I’ve been working on practice queries going on three days now, because my query submission skills suck major balls, and not in that fun way that could actually be somewhat productive. I know I’m overthinking it; three articles into how NOT to write a query, and I’m waffling between beating my head against the wall and trying to convince myself that I don’t REALLY want a literary agent to read my stuff, anyway. Which is a total fucking lie. The truth is, I NEED someone to sell me for me, because I’m terrible at it.

A friend of mine told me that I should create a persona. I could create a fake name, set up a website, and do all this shit that would probably be great for hawking my gay fantasy erotica. Quite frankly, the whole process seems exhausting, and I’m a terrible actor. If I tried to create a sexy persona, it would just come across as clownish and ridiculous.


Tits McGhee


It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with having a persona; I just don’t see how people have the time for it. I mean, I spent two hours last night researching orphans and servants in the 17th century, so that I can write maybe four fucking paragraphs about it that hold up to loose scrutiny. And then there’s the writing itself, which takes up a goodly portion of the free time that I’m not spending on Twitter shaking my fist  in the air at Donald Trump. Also, I don’t look remotely coquettish  while engaging in either of these activities, unless you think my nerd-chic glasses, an over-sized Bob Ross t-shirt, and plaid pajama shorts are the new Betty Boop. In that case, I’m cute AF.


Proof positive of my ‘Cute AF’ status.

Also, there’s no fucking way I’m putting a fake name on this stuff. I work my ass off; I’m not letting some slutty alter ego take all the credit while I stand off in the sidelines in obscurity. Plus, I’m kind of proud of my little endeavor. Every book I write is exactly the book that I personally wanted to read, and I’m just truly self-absorbed enough to really appreciate that.

Lastly, I hate the idea that anyone would ever think that I’m embarrassed about writing erotica. A LOT of people seem to have a stick up their asses about it, for either moral or so-called intellectual reasons. All I can say to that, is whatever, man. You do you; I’m not remotely interested in selling you on a new state of mind. There was once a time when I thought that adults being fans of Harry Potter was patently ridiculous, fool that I was. We are all victims of our own hubris at one time or another.


James Joyce

I mean, if it’s good enough for this guy… You only WISH you could be this eloquent in a dirty letter to your girlfriend, as do I.




6 thoughts on “I Don’t Know How to Sell Myself

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